


The Witch and the Dragon Hunter

by Dewy_Peach



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragons, Fluff, Nyo!England, Other, Romance, Witchcraft, genderfluid!France
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:47:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25613065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dewy_Peach/pseuds/Dewy_Peach
Summary: Alice wasn’t the first stranger to come from afar to the witch store in Ferrn, but she was the strangest of them — or at least the one that stood out most in the witch’s eyes.
Relationships: England/France (Hetalia), France & Prussia & Spain (Hetalia), Prussia/South Italy (Hetalia)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SnowyWolff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowyWolff/gifts).



> I wrote this at least a year ago for an exchange with [Yuki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowyWolff/pseuds/SnowyWolff) and then went on a long ass break and forgot to post this. But here it is now!  
> It has three chapters, and I'm going to update weekly :)

Alice wasn’t the first stranger to come from afar to the witch store in Ferrn, but she  _ was _ the strangest of them — or at least the one that stood out most in the witch’s eyes. 

It was a summer morning when she arrived, the inside of the witch’s store quiet save for the scribbling of her feathered pen in her ledger book. The witch was up and working earlier than usual that day. It was warm already, and the first rays of sunlight illuminated the colourful liquids in the countless bottles and tubes lining the shelves, casting glowing shadows on the floor like stained glass.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. The witch looked up with surprise. “Come in,” she called, wiping ink on her already-stained apron. 

The door opened with a pleasant jingle of bells. 

The witch gaped.

The stranger was wearing armour, real leather and chainmail armour, and carried a sword in her belt, and had her long sand-coloured hair tied back in a tight ponytail. She had sharp and proud features and intense green eyes.

“Morning,” she greeted curtly. “Are you Ferrn's witch?”

“You can call me Marianne,” the witch replied. “And you are?"

"Alice.” The stranger stepped closer, looking around at all the potions, scrolls and shiny knick-knacks that filled the store. “I need a fireproof spell for my armour.”

Marianne’s eyebrows rose. “Going after a dragon, huh?”

Alice frowned. “That’s my job.”

“You’re a dragon hunter?”

“What about it?” Alice’s glare seemed like a warning.

“Nothing,” Marianne said quickly. “You just didn’t seem like — the type...”

“You mean, you’ve never seen a female dragon hunter.”

“I haven't. But to tell you the truth, it’s very refreshing.” Marianne smiled. “A spell like that won't come cheaply, you know.”

Alice returned a hint of a smile. “Dragon scales and teeth aren’t easy to come by, either.”

Marianne knew better than to openly show her interest, but couldn’t help her eyes from going wide. “You’re offering a deal?”

“I’ve heard your spells can last a decade.”

“It’ll last you more than that," Marianne assured. 

“Give me your best fireproof spell, and when I kill my next dragon, you’ll be the first to the body.”

Marianne crossed her arms over her chest. “How can I know you’ll come back when you’re done?”

“I can leave something as a deposit.”

Marianne’s bright smile returned to her face. “How about that unbreakable dagger you’ve got there?”

Alice’s hand went to rest defensively on the little scabbard tucked in next to her sword. “How did you know it was an unbreakable dagger?”

“That kind of old magic is impossible to miss,” Marianne said. “For my kind. It's worth quite a bit. If you’re willing to give it away, I could give you a permanent fireproof spell. And some dragon poison. I’ll throw in an invisibility spell as well.”

“I'm not trading it away,” Alice said. Her tone was final.

Marianne shrugged, not bothering to hide her disappointment. “That's your choice. But leave it as deposit. That way, if you run with my spell, or if you die fighting a dragon, I’ll have my money back.”

To tell the truth, Alice seemed like the kind that was honourable to a fault; Marianne didn’t think she’d disappear. But better safe than sorry.

Alice contemplated, but only for a moment. “Fine.”

“We have a deal.” Marianne extended her hand for a shake, and Alice took it. Her palm was rough to the touch. 

“We have a deal.”

When she let go of her hand, Marianne let out a small sigh of relief, not quite knowing why. She rubbed her hands together. “Now let's get started on that spell, shall we?”

* * *

Alice re-appeared only a few days later, in the middle of business.

“I’m giving you two bottles,” Marianne was telling the old man from the Willow farm, “remember — the green one is for your daughter, the blue one is for the pig. Don’t mix them up, you hear me? Oh!” she exclaimed when she saw Alice standing in the doorway. “Alice! You returned.”

Absently, she handed the pouch with the bottles to the farmer, who muttered his thanks and left, brushing past Alice on his way out.

Alice looked dishevelled. She was covered in road dust and there was a darkening bruise on her cheek. “It's on Mount Marroad. I can take you there."

"What?" Marianne said. 

“There's a path through the woods, but it’s somewhat hard to find if you don't know where it is. First, I’m going to get a good rest, though.”

It took Marianne a few moments to catch up. She blinked. “You killed a dragon?”

Alice nodded once.

“Here? In our province?” Mount Marroad was only a few hours’ ride away. 

Alice nodded again. 

“I guess I should thank you on behalf of the whole town, then.”

Alice brushed it off. “Someone else would’ve gotten it if it wasn’t me.”

“I’m glad it was you,” Marianne said. Somehow, she meant it, and not only because of her share in the spoils. “Do you have a place to stay?”

“Yes. I'm staying at the Glorious Pigeon.” Alice rolled her eyes when saying the name.

Marianne chuckled. “It’s not the most ‘glorious’, but it’s a good place. Shall we go tomorrow?”

Alice nodded. “I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

“It’s a date.”

That made Alice pause on the way out, glancing over her shoulder with a strange look.

“Don’t worry, I’m joking,” Marianne said. Then she added: “Unless, of course, you want it to be a date.”

Alice snorted. She didn't reply. “See you tomorrow,” she said, closing the door behind her. 

* * *

The next morning, they tied Alice’s patchy brown horse to Marianne’s cart and went onto the king’s road leading to Mount Marroad. Marianne was dressed for travel; long pants and sturdy leather boots under a woollen dress. Alice, unsurprisingly, was wearing her armour. They sat side by side at the front of the cart, Alice holding the reins. She looked significantly better than the previous day, though there were still dark circles underneath her eyes. Perhaps those were permanent, Marianne thought.

Within an hour, they left the brown and gold fields behind and the vast forest spread before them. The wind carried the smell of mushrooms and pine resin and rotting leaves. Marianne felt the excitement of an adventure rise in her.

She looked at Alice and smiled. “Say,” she began conversationally, “what brought you to my store?”

Alice shrugged. “I heard that you’re the best in the kingdom when it comes to protective spells.” 

“Ah.” It was always good to hear that her name preceded her. "Sweet."

“Is it true?”

“Possibly.” Marianne paused. “Probably,” she admitted. 

“So modest.”

“Have you heard anything else about me?” Marianne asked, curious.

“That you’re from Stavelle. But I could’ve guessed that myself.”

“What gave me away?” Marianne asked in mock-confusion. The twins from town had a rhyme for that question:  _ talk like you got pebbles in your mouth / you’re clearly from Stavelle in the south. _

“I don’t know. Maybe the sky-blue eyes or the gold-strings hair." Alice's expression was unreadable. "I've also heard that you're beautiful."

Marianne blinked. “And is it true?” she asked, mimicking the way Alice asked it before.

“Definitely.” Alice’s mouth curved into a small smile, and her eyes flickered away. She continued before Marianne had time to reply. “I heard that you brought a dead man back to life.”

“He wasn’t dead, but he wasn’t far from that. And thank you. You’re lovely yourself.”

Alice’s smile widened. “I heard that you can turn into a man.”

“If you stay long enough maybe you’ll find out.”

“I can’t believe you’re really wearing a pointy hat,” Alice said.

“Huh? Oh.” Marianne touched the brim of the pointy, dark blue hat she’d chosen for the trip. “Of course. I’m a witch after all.”

“I thought it was just made up fancy,” Alice said. 

“Well, Many people tell stories, but only a few know the truth.” Marianne smiled mysteriously. “Do you want to know the  _ real  _ reason we wear pointy hats?”

Alice hesitated, then shrugged. “Sure.”

Marianne lowered her voice conspiratorially. “It’s where we hide the souls of those who disrespected us.”

Alice grinned. “That reminds me of something,” she said. “Do you know why knights carry round shields?”

“No, but I would love to hear.” 

“It’s so we can use them as sledges if it snows. Knights love having fun, really.” 

“That’s surprisingly heartwarming.”

“Thank you,” Alice bowed her head.

“Are you really a knight?” 

“Ha, no. It’s only for men.”

“But you kill dragons,” Marianne pointed out encouragingly. “You’re a perfect knight to me.”

Alice shrugged, but the way her cheeks went pink didn’t escape Marianne’s eyes. 

* * *

They reached the dragon’s lair in the late afternoon, after long a ride up the mountain, and a hike up a steep stone trail from the place where the road ended. As they drew near, Marianne saw a cave dug into the side of a cliff, with a flat plateau of stone spread before it. The ground was littered with broken stone pillars, some of them still bearing old runes, and the remnants of a wall lined the edge of the plateau. 

“Ah,” she said. “It’s one of  _ those  _ places.”

“The ruins?” Alice asked curiously. “Are they magic? I can’t feel it, myself.”

Marianne nodded. When she closed her eyes, the whole place was alight with the glow of old magic. There was an uneasiness deep in her bones. Ruins of this kind had something unnatural about them — and indeed, the only creatures living in them seemed to be dragons.

Marianne and Alice rounded the edge of the ancient wall, and there, right before them, was the dragon.

It was huge; standing, it must have been three times as tall as a person. Even lying, it seemed like a small mountain by itself. Its scales were green, glimmering in the sun, except on its stomach where they were white. It lay with its neck twisted at a strange angle, arrows jutting out of its wings. One red eye with a slit pupil was facing their direction, open and staring. 

Marianne suppressed a shiver. “Have you done this on your own?” She asked Alice, her voice quiet with awe.

“Yeah. Well, I had the help of your spell.”

Marianne stepped towards the beast with a strange mix of emotions — fear and disgust mixed with a tinge of irrational sadness. Dragons were cunning and evil, and this one had lurked so close to her village. It was a threat removed. Still, dragons had always seemed to Marianne like a remnant of an age long gone. They were like no other animal still living. And strangely enough, there was something beautiful about them.

“Are you going to get started?” Alice asked from behind, her voice echoing between the cliffs. “We don’t have much sunlight left.”

“Yeah.” Marianne tore her gaze off that unblinking eye and set down her bag, beginning to take out her work tools. “It’ll take a while, though. We might have to make camp for the night.”

“Here?” Alice asked sceptically.

Marianne winced. “I'd rather not. This place is… unpleasant.”

“I thought so too.” 

Maybe she  _ could  _ feel something, even if not as clearly as Marianne did. Or maybe it was simply the dead dragon’s unsettling gaze.

Marianne glanced towards the sun. “I’ll be done in a few hours. Then we can go down to the forest and set up our camp there.”

Alice nodded. “Can I help you?”

“It’s fine. I could use your help carrying things to the cart later, though.”

“I’ll try not to get in the way, then.” Alice flopped down onto a rock, crossing her legs. Marianne smiled at her, then rolled up her sleeves, let out a nervous huff and got to work.

* * *

Alice and Marianne shared a moment of immense relief when they reached the forest below. Even the horse seemed nervous when they came down from the plateau and untied her. The back of the wagon was now loaded with several heavy sacks of dragon parts, but still, she seemed grateful to be on the way.

After around half an hour on the forest road, the last hints of the strange ominous feelings were finally gone, and comfortable now in the shelter of the trees, they decided to camp.

They camped next to a narrow stream. Alice set up the tent and built a fire, and Marianne cast a protective spell over edges of the clearing — “this way nothing will be able to find us, not even a dragon.” When she came back, she found Alice struggling to create a flame. Marianne flicked a hand at the pile of sticks and it caught fire instantly.

Alice stared in disbelief. “Show-off,” she muttered.

Marianne grinned. “You’re the one who brought me to see the dragon you’ve killed.”

She divided bread, hard cheese and sweet apples between the two of them, and they ate in the warmth of the fire.

“How did you kill that dragon, Alice? Now that I’ve seen it, it seems impossible.”

Alice’s face was grim in the light of the fire. “It’s impossible to kill an airborne dragon, yes — so you shoot the wings until it comes down, then you attack its weak spots. It’s still difficult, but not impossible.”

“I think it’s amazing.”

“Thank you,” Alice said, looking distant.

They watched the fire crackle.

“It was my first time killing a dragon on my own,” Alice admitted suddenly. “I used to do it with parties.”

“What changed?”

Alice sighed. “You know the kind of men that choose dragon-hunting as a profession.”

“Greedy shitheads who think they’re braver and manlier than they really are?” 

“Well-put,” Alice noted. “I was just tired of how I got treated. I used to switch parties a lot because they’d always put me in the back so that I wouldn’t get hurt, then get angry when I proved a better shot than them. I got called a witch several times, by the way.”

Marianne laughed. “Some people don’t realise that’s a compliment.”

Alice nodded. “Anyway, I had enough.”

“And look at you now.” Marianne smiled at her. “They shouldn’t have underestimated you.”

Alice laughed. “I feel like I just got lucky with this dragon.”

“I hope not. I’d like you to stay alive.”

“Me too.”

Marianne got up and went to the wagon. She came back with a lyre. “Do you sing?”

Alice shook her head. 

Marianne sat down cross-legged and rested the lyre in her lap. She tuned it with her head tilted. “Not even Soggy Red Boots?”

“Well, I guess I can sing ‘Soggy Red Boots’, but be warned — you brought this upon yourself.”

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think it is.”

Marianne played the opening chords and then Alice joined in. She wasn’t always perfectly in tune, but she had a pleasant singing voice, low and warm.

Marianne played a few more folk songs, which Alice sang along to with steadily decreasing reluctance. After that, Marianne plucked a few songs that were quiet and melancholy, and the forest glade gradually fell quiet, as if listening. Alice watched the smooth movement of Marianne’s hands until her eyelids started to droop. “I’m getting sleepy. I think it’s time to turn in for the night,” she said after the last notes of the song faded.

“Alright. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Marianne.”

Marianne remained by the fire for a while longer before stomping it out and joining Alice in the tent.

* * *

The witch woke up with the vague feeling that something had changed. He got out of the tent, careful not to wake Alice up, and went down to the stream. The disapproval he felt at the sight of his reflection made it clear that he was no longer Marianne.

He went back to the tent. Alice was sleeping with her back to the sunlight, her face hidden. The witch took his travel bag and exited once more. Standing next to the stream, he did what needed to be done to hide what had to be hidden, then changed into a wide shirt and trousers. He combed his long hair and tied it up in a bun. He dipped his hands in the water and wiped the remnants of makeup from his face, then, kneeling by the stream with the box of paints and brushes at his side, he did his makeup again, in a fundamentally different way.

All the while, worry gathered in his chest, slowly forming into a painful knot. He hadn’t told Alice — not really. What would she think?

Footsteps sounded behind him. “Morning,” came Alice’s drowsy voice. 

With dread, Francis got up and turned to face her. Alice stopped walking, her mouth forming a small ‘o’. They both stared at each other. 

“I didn’t believe it when they said you could shapeshift,” Alice said at last.

“I wouldn't call it shape-shifting,” Francis said, his tone even and his heart pounding. “Just a clever use of clothing and makeup.” 

“I see,” Alice said. “I see. I-” She looked uncertain. “Do you use a different name?”

“Francis.”

“Alice,” Alice replied automatically, then snorted and rolled her eyes. 

Francis laughed. “Nice to meet you, Alice.”

“Francis,” Alice said carefully, “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Are you going to ask what's my 'true form'?”

“No.” Alice made a face. “That’s none of my business.”

Francis found himself grinning. “You're right, it isn't.” 

“I just— ” Alice fumbled for words. “I was just thinking that it must be hard for you.”

Francis waved his hand dismissively. “The townspeople just brush it under the witchy weirdness. I'm fine.” 

“That’s good then.”

They smiled at each other, Francis already feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. 

* * *

“Where are you from, Alice?” Francis asked on the ride back to Ferrn.

“A town called Sleetport. It’s near Shell.”

“That’s close to the northern border, no?”

Alice nodded.

“You’re far from home, then,” Francis noted.

“You’re farther.”

“Stavelle was never really home.”

Alice hesitated. “I heard that witchcraft is forbidden there.”

“That’s one reason, yes.”

Thankfully, Alice didn’t ask about the other reasons. Her brow was furrowed in thought.

“Well,” Francis prompted, “what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Why do you go around the country hunting dragons?”

Alice stared at the road passing under the wagon wheels. “Can we talk about it some other time?”

“Does that mean there’ll be another time?”

Alice smiled. “Sadly, your fireproof spell lasts too long; I don’t need to come back to renew it.”

“That  _ is  _ a pity.”

Alice smiled. “I guess I’ll just have to find another reason to visit.”


	2. Chapter 2

In the next few days, thoughts of Alice kept unexpectedly popping up in the witch’s head, causing equal amounts of excitement and anxiety. Memories of conversation fragments with Alice brought a foolish grin to their face, but then they’d remember that she was off fighting a damn  _ dragon, for fuck’s sake,  _ and they’d chew down the tip of the feather pen with worry.

A welcome distraction appeared the following week in the form of a chubby songbird carrying a rolled-up note on a string around its neck. Marianne offered it water and a plate of seeds, marvelling at its vibrant colours, and gently retrieved the slightly crumpled note. 

_ Hello Fran, _

_ It’s been too long! I miss the sight of your lovely face!  _

_ If you’re free, I’ll come to visit the day after tomorrow. I’ll pick up Gil on the way (I doubt that he has any plans) and we can all have a nice picnic. Send your reply back with this bird. _

_ Kisses, _

_ Carmen _

Grinning, Marianne took a piece of parchment and scribbled:

_ Carmen, It’s so good hearing from you. _

_ I’m free! Can’t wait to see you both.  _

_ Love, _

_ Marianne _

_ P.S. What a beautiful bird!  _

She looked up to see the bird puffing its chest proudly. Marianne stroked its head with her knuckles and it let out a soft coo. She waited a while to let it rest and eat, then tied her note to its neck. The bird flapped its wings a few times and flew out of the open window.

* * *

“Marianne, there’s something coming from the sky! Could it be…”

Marianne rolled her eyes, sticking her head out of the window. “It’s not dragons. It’s just my friends. Sorry for scaring you,” she called towards the next house.

“Oh, alright. Just warn me next time, Marianne…” There was a thunk as her neighbour shut her window again.

Marianne stepped out of the door and looked up, her hair blowing in a sudden gust of wind. There were indeed two dark shapes clear against the blue sky, gradually growing larger as they descended. Eventually, they were close enough for Marianne to see two figures with pointy hats, riding branches of pine. Carmen, tanned, curly-haired and beautiful, was sitting side-saddle and elegantly floating down. Gilbert, pale as snow, was leaning forward and crashing down like a lightning bolt. He landed and sent up a cloud of dust, and Marianne covered her face, coughing. A few seconds later Carmen stepped off her branch on light feet. 

Marianne hugged them both enthusiastically. “What has gotten into you, flying like this in broad daylight?”

“We had an invisibility spell earlier, but it washed off when  _ someone,”  _ Carmen shot Gilbert a glance, “decided to fly through a rain cloud.”

“You came after me,” he pointed out.

“Because I had to save you from drowning!”

Marianne laughed. “Just don’t do that again. I’m walking on eggshells with these people already.”

“Alright, sorry, sorry…”

“Give me a moment, I’ll get my things.” Marianne went back inside and returned a moment later with a straw basket and her own pointy hat. 

They walked to the meadow on the edge of the village and rolled out a blanket in the shade of a large ash tree. Marianne brought handmade pie and berries from her garden, and Carmen brought cookies and chocolates. Gilbert was a bad cook and didn’t have a garden, but he brought a bottle of expensive red wine. 

“How are things going with you, Gil?” Marianne asked as he poured for the three of them. “Still living in that abandoned tower?”

He grinned. “I had to scare away a group of kids yesterday. Pretty sure they think I’m a vampire.”

“That’s a reasonable conclusion,” Carmen said. “I still think you’re some sort of demon.” She stuffed her mouth with a slice of pie. “It’s so good, Marianne!”

“I’m glad you like it,” Marianne said with pleasure.

“Speaking about houses,” Gilbert said, “tell her about the renovations, Carm.”

“Ah, yes. Our coven is moving into a larger place. We’re going to have a better kitchen, and magically running water — hot  _ and _ cold! and each of us is going to have a room of her own. Maybe we’ll throw in a few balconies as well.”

“Wow, that sounds amazing. Where is it going to be?”

“It’s going to be mobile,” Carmen said. “I wanted a seaside location, but Emma wanted someplace greener, and Chiara just wants to be as far as possible from people. We settled for adding wheels so the house can travel from place to place.”

Marianne laughed. “I can’t wait to see that. You must bring the whole house to visit me!”

“Won’t your villagers just  _ love _ that.”

“Visit me, too,” Gilbert added.

“Yes, poor Gilbert, living all alone.”

“I’m fine!” he protested. “I’m a hermit by choice.”

That was actually a touchy subject, but Gilbert didn’t seem to mind joking about it. His volatile magic, together with his unusual looks, made it impossible for him to fit into non-magical society. He’d received offers in the past to join witch covens, but for some reason never managed to get along with other magical folk and preferred solitude. At least he was in close touch with his brother, who wasn’t a witch, and they met often.

Marianne could understand him, in a way; she’d been part of Carmen’s coven in the past, but not for long. For her own reasons, she couldn’t stand living with them. 

“Any interesting research lately?” she asked Gilbert.

He perked up. “I’m researching dragons.”

“What about them?” Carmen asked.

“Well, everything, really. We barely know anything about dragons. It seems to me that there are important questions that nobody ever asks — such as, how come dragons are the only known animals, besides humans, of course, that use magic?” 

Marianne leaned in. “They use magic?”

“Of course. How would they breathe fire otherwise?”

Marianne shrugged, feeling silly. “Strange things happen in nature. I haven’t thought about it. So you’re saying they can access their magic the same way we do?”

“Not quite the same way,” Gilbert said. His eyes were alight and he was gesturing wildly, as he always did when prompted to talk about one of his projects. “Witches use magic consciously, and can use it to different purposes; for dragons, as far as I can tell, it’s an instinct, and they can only transform magical force into fire.”

“But it isn’t always conscious for witches,” Carmen said thoughtfully. “I remember as a child I would sometimes use magic without intending to. It still happens sometimes when I get very emotional.”

Marianne nodded. “Me too. But dragons aren’t intelligent — at least not as intelligent as humans — so I guess it makes sense that they would only have that kind of instinctual magic.”

Gilbert nodded. “Exactly. And they can also sense magic; that’s why they’re drawn to the magical ruins.” He sighed. “It’s a difficult topic to research, though. Wouldn’t want to get too close to a dragon.”

“Would a dead one be of any use?” Marianne asked.

“Of course. Why, do you have one?”

“I can tell you where it is.”

Gilbert jaw dropped. “Really?!”

Marianne smiled. “It’s on Mount Marroad; there’s a path leading up through the forest, but I guess you can just fly there. Do you have a vision compass?”

He fished in his pocket, pulling out a bunch of different sized coins, a crushed flower and a stained handkerchief before finding a vision compass and handing it to her. It was golden and heavy and etched with an intricate leaf pattern. The needle was erratically spinning in all directions, so fast that it was almost invisible. Marianne fixed the image of the old ruins and the dragon’s carcass in her mind, and the needle stopped spinning, instead pointing steadily towards the white peaks in the distance. “That should get you there.”

Gilbert was beaming. “Thank you so much!”

Carmen looked at her suspiciously. “Mari, how did you come across a dead dragon?”

Marianne felt her face growing warm.

“What!” Carmen exclaimed. “I know that face! Did you meet  _ someone _ ?”

Marianne lowered her eyes and pretended to be very interested in choosing the largest cookie in the box. “Just a customer that I haven’t seen before. Came from pretty far away. A dragon hunter.”

Carmen wrinkled her nose. “Really? Those guys are so full of themselves.”

“Wasn’t a guy.”

“Really?” Gilbert’s eyes widened. “I’ve never heard of a female dragon hunter.”

Marianne chuckled. “Me neither.”

Carmen bit on a strawberry. “I get you, Marianne. It’s kind of hot.”

“I know, right!”

“Well, how’s it going so far?” Gilbert asked.

Marianne told them about the deal she made with Alice and their trip to the dragon’s carcass. “And now I have no idea if I’ll ever see her again,” she concluded.

“You will,” Carmen said with certainty.

Marianne raised a brow. “Did you read that in my wine glass?”

“I don’t need to look into the future to know that. I just know that nobody can resist your charms,” Carmen replied teasingly.

“Oh, please.”

“Well, from the last thing she said to you, it seems she’s pretty intent on coming back. Wouldn’t you say, Gil?” Carmen elbowed him.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I don’t understand romance.”

Carmen snorted. “Anyway, Marianne, keep us updated.”

“What, do you want me to send you birds with breaking news in my love life?”

“Yes!”

“How am I supposed to even find you if you live in a moving house?”

Carmen rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll manage. Use your magic.”

Marianne lay back on the blanket and sighed. “I hope it’ll be alright. I hope she doesn’t like,  _ die  _ or something.”

“Don’t be so gloomy.”

“Yeah. At least  _ you  _ didn’t turn yourself into a bear by mistake,” Gilbert said helpfully.

“You turned yourself into  _ what? _ ”

“Yes, last week. I was trying to get this mystical flower that made harp sounds,” he began, “but there were so many bees around, and you see, this new spellbook I got in the Eastern Isles had a trick for touching bees with  _ bare _ hands, only I got the spelling wrong…”

The conversation turned to the topic of Gilbert’s hilarious adventures, and by the evening, when they returned to town, Marianne was feeling much lighter. She watched them fly away from the hammock in her garden until their pointy-hatted shapes disappeared between the stars. Sometimes she felt like she was alone in this foreign land; it was good to be reminded of her friends’ presence.

* * *

Carmen’s prediction was proven right when Alice reappeared in the middle of a summer shower. She was a pitiful sight. Her hair was dripping, darkened by the rain, and her clothes, peeking beneath her glinting armour, seemed to be soaked through. She was carrying a leather travelsack which drooped in a way that hinted its contents were heavy.

“Alice!”

“Hello, Marianne.” Alice smiled, and it was like the sun coming out from behind the rainclouds. 

“I’m-” Marianne was speechless for a moment. “I’m so happy to see you! Please come in! How are you?”

“Wet. Cold.” Alice walked in, huffing and blowing wet hair out of her face. She left a trail of drops from the door. “It’s been raining since Niue. Damn, I hate rain.”

“You’re soaked.” Marianne put her hand to her mouth. “Wait here, I’ll get you something dry to wear.”

Alice looked up with surprise. “There’s no need— ”

“You know what, just go in there and change.” Marianne jerked her head towards the door behind her desk. “Just take whatever fits you. There are towels in the closet too.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

“You’re dripping on my floor,” Marianne accused. “Go change.”

Alice stood up and went to Marianne’s bedroom without further complaint. While she changed, Marianne lit a fire, dragged two chairs next to it, then set a kettle to boil. While the drizzle went on steadily outside, Marianne’s heart was racing.

A few minutes later Alice re-emerged, a mint-coloured towel thrown over her shoulders. She was wearing a pair of black trousers and a warm woollen shirt. 

Marianne tried not to stare.

“Thanks a lot,” Alice said. She began hanging her wet clothes on the laundry line near the fire to dry. “It’s so great that you have pants. For a moment I was worried there’d only be dresses, but then I remembered — of course, I’ve seen you in men’s clothing before.” 

Marianne smiled. “Not a fan of dresses?”

“Oh, no, I love dresses.” Alice chuckled. “Just, not on myself.”

“I get you. I have days like that.”

Alice finished hanging the last piece of clothing, then held up the pile of leather and chainmail that was her wet armour and frowned at it. 

“Just put it on the floor,” Marianne said.

Alice set it down with a soft clank. She sat down on the free chair, and Marianne handed her a cup of steaming tea. Alice wrapped her fingers around it and sighed contentedly. Her stiff posture seemed to melt slightly. 

“Come a long way?” Marianne asked.

“Very.” Alice closed her eyes for a moment. “I took a ride on a farmer’s cart from Niue, but he only brought me as far as the Deer Valley, and I had to walk the rest of the way. Gods, I’m exhausted.”

Marianne hummed sympathetically. “It sounds terrible. At least you can get some good rest tonight.”

“Yeah. I’m not planning on getting up any earlier than tomorrow afternoon.” Alice smiled and stretched her legs. “But I thought I’d stop by to say hello before turning in for the night.”

“I’m flattered,” Marianne said sincerely. Then a thought occurred to her. “Where’s your horse?”

Alice’s smile turned into a grimace. “I no longer have her.”

“What? Why?”

“I gave her to a family in the village that was attacked by the dragons.”

“That’s... very kind of you.”

“I don’t know.” Alice shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know why I did it.”

“What do you mean?”

Alice rubbed her temples. “I’m sorry, I still don’t really want to talk about this.”

“No problem,” Marianne said, hoping to sound reassuring.

Before the silence could linger, Alice said: “Oh, I brought you something.”

Marianne perked up. “Really?”

Alice nodded. “Hopefully, the rain didn’t get inside my travelsack.” She pulled it towards her feet and, with some effort, untied the knot that kept the upper flap closed. Marianne caught a familiar glint from inside — the metallic shine of dragon scales. 

“Alice!” she exclaimed. “No way!”

Alice rubbed the back of her neck. “There’s not much, but…”

“It’s — It’s really great.” 

Alice smiled, and went a little bit pink. “Well, I thought if anyone should have it, it’s you.”

Marianne hugged her on an impulse. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve dreamt of using dragon magic? And thanks to you I get to do it not once but  _ twice. _ ” 

When she released her, Alice’s cheeks were bright red.

“Well,” Marianne noted, “no one has ever brought me dragon scales before. That certainly tops flowers. I’ve got enough of those here.”

Alice looked like she was wishing for the earth to swallow her whole, but she crossed her arms and said: “Hah, if only all the knights were aware that what a girl really w-wants is a sack of dragon remains—”

Suddenly, Marianne remembered something and slapped a hand to her forehead. “I forgot to tell you. The dragon magic from the last time sold out fast. After subtracting the price of the fireproof spell, your share is a little above ten Crowns.”

Alice’s jaw dropped. “ _ Ten Crowns?” _

Marianne nodded. “Do you want it now?”

When Alice didn’t reply, she went to the desk and took a soft leather pouch from a drawer. She held it out to Alice, who took it carefully, as if it might bite her. 

“That’s more than I expected,” she admitted, her expression strangely embarrassed. “It’s been a while since I had this much money.”

“But you’re a dragon hunter.”

“Yes, but I’ve never been given a fair share of the loot. And I didn’t know where to sell it anyway.” Alice weighed the pouch in her hand. “I don’t know what to do with it.”

Marianne remembered the times when her financial state was about the same as Alice’s now. It wasn’t a very pleasant memory. “Get a new horse, for a start?” she suggested.

“Oh, definitely. I’ve had enough walking for a lifetime today.”

“And maybe…” Marianne trailed off.

Alice paused when she noticed Marianne’s expression. “And maybe what?”

_ Take me out for dinner?  _ was what she wanted to say, but Alice’s eyes met hers, and her heart fluttered, and she couldn’t say it.

“What?” Alice repeated.

Now it was Marianne’s turn to stare into the fire. “I don’t know what I was going to say,” she mumbled.

That, of course, only sparked Alice’s curiosity. She leaned in close. “No, tell me.”

Marianne gritted her teeth. “Fine. Um, Alice, are you—”

“What?”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

Alice’s eyes went wide at that. Then she shook her head. “No, no one.” After a short pause, she asked: “Are you?”

“No, I’m not.” Marianne chuckled nervously. “I was going to say, you could…”

“Take you out for dinner?”

Marianne swallowed. “Yes.”

Alice’s eyes twinkled. “Would you like that? Tomorrow evening, maybe?”

Unable to say anything, Marianne just nodded.

* * *

“Can you tell me about magic?”

They were sitting in the Glorious Pigeon, having a meal that was mostly baked potatoes. There weren’t many options for a date in Ferrn. At least the Pigeon had music and candles.

“About magic?” Marianne repeated. “What would you like to know?”

“Everything?” Alice asked hopefully. Then she laughed. “Maybe, for a start, why do only some people have it?”

Marianne laughed too. “Wish I knew.”

“Oh,” Alice said, drawing back. “That makes sense.”

“But,” Marianne added, “there are theories. I have a friend named Gilbert who likes looking into that kind of question. I can tell you his explanation.”

“Please do.”

Marianne pondered. “I don’t know if I should tell you this, but I trust you, and I guess there’s nothing bad you could do with the information anyway.” She spread her hands over the table. “First of all, all living things have magic. That much even I know — witches can feel the magic in other things.”

Alice blinked. “If all living things have magic, then how — “

“Think about it as…” Marianne picked up her beer mug and placed it between them. “A mug?” She chuckled. “Lame comparison, but whatever. All living things have a cup of magic in them, and some can drink from it. The rest can’t. It’s there, but they can’t get to it.” She put her plate on top of the mug so that it blocked the opening. “Gil thinks that magic and the power of life are somehow related.”

“What does that mean?” 

“I’m not sure myself,” Marianne admitted. “But I think that’s why witches have a limited source of magic to draw on. If we use too much, we can end up hurting ourselves. Supposedly, we’re drawing on the energy that keeps us alive.”

She removed the plate from the mug and took a sip. “Gil also thinks that a long time ago, all humans were able to use magic. He says that’s when the magical ruins were created — like the ones were we found your first dragon.”

“And what changed?” Alice asked intently.

Marianne shrugged.

Alice hesitated. “Do you mind me asking you more questions? It’s just… fascinating.”

“Go ahead.”

“Is there anything that magic  _ can’t  _ do?”

“I don’t know,” Marianne admitted. “There are things that  _ I  _ can’t do, but then again, every witch has different limits. Most of us are good at one or a few specific areas. I’m best at healing and protective spells. Gil is a good shapeshifter — which is ironic because that was always what I wanted most.”

“So you’ve tried shapeshifting?”

“I’ll tell you about that some other time,” Marianne promised with a wink, then quickly returned to the subject at hand. “Anyway, magic is limited by source power, and by the abilities of the one using it. Apart from that, there are things that, as far as I know, are impossible with the skills and knowledge that the witches of our day have.”

“Such as?”

“Bringing back the dead.”

“So that rumour about the man you brought back couldn’t have been right anyway.”

Marianne nodded. “Thankfully, he wasn’t past the gate yet. If they’d brought him in a minute later, I wouldn’t have been able to help. I actually despise that one rumour. People keep coming to me asking to revive their dead loved ones.”

Alice winced. “That sounds like a bother.”

“I know, right?”

Alice speared a steaming potato with her fork and blew at it. “Can you feel my magic?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“What does it feel like?”

“Well, like you. Because I know you.”

Alice smiled. “So if I was in the other room you’d know?”

“Yeah. There goes your hope for sneaking up on me.” Marianne pointed her fork at Alice. “Now you tell me about being a knight.”

Alice laughed. “I told you, I’m not a knight!”

“Then tell me about being Alice.”

“It’s nasty work.”

Marianne snorted. 

“Well, I’m not really a knight, but I’ve always wanted to be one, to be honest.”

“Why?”

Alice scratched her cheek. “Yeah, I wonder. Have I always wanted to save pretty maidens?”

Marianne laughed. 

“I think it was because of my older sister,” Alice said. “She worked as a bodyguard in trade caravans. She taught me to sword fight, and I was always jealous of her adventures.”

“She must be proud of you now.”

“She’s dead, actually. Oh, it’s fine,” Alice added at Marianne’s shocked expression. “It was a long time ago. She was killed by a dragon. That’s why I wanted to become a dragon hunter.”

Mariane wanted to say  _ I’m sorry,  _ but Alice wasn’t the kind of person who’d like to hear that. “I’m… thanks for telling me.”

“It’s really alright.” Alice reached over the table and took her hand. Marianne could swear that at that moment her heart stopped. Alice smiled warmly. Then she released her hand and picked up her fork again. “Let me tell you about the place where I grew up. It’s a nicer story.”

* * *

_ Dear Carmen! _

_ You wanted me to send updates about my love life, so I guess you brought this upon yourself. _

_ My dragon hunter returned to town yesterday, and we just went on a date. _

_ We went to the Pigeon — that’s the local inn here. It’s nothing special, and dinner was mostly potatoes, But Alice — that’s her name — was so sweet.  _

_ We were talking the whole time. I asked about her life and she was telling me about sword fighting and duels and wayfinding, and the village she grew up in. She’s got some amazing childhood stories. It sort of made me melancholy, thinking about how people like you and I never had a real childhood, but... nevermind that. _

_ She asked me about magic. Unlike most people, she seemed genuinely interested and not scared. She was also interested in hearing about all the small things in my life. And you know how happy I am to talk about my garden to anyone who would listen. _

_ We’re meeting again tomorrow. I asked her if she dances, and she said that maybe with the right person. Hopefully I can be the right person?  _

_ That’s all, I think. Tell me what you think. _

  1. _S. have you moved into your new house already? I can’t wait to visit and see it for myself._



_ Love you, _

_ Kisses, _

_ Marianne _

The witch blew on the parchment and sprinkled sand over it, then rolled it up and went out to the garden. She made a sound somewhere between a chirp and a screech, and after a few moments, a barn owl landed on her outstretched arm. Marianne tied the letter on a string around its neck. “Can you find Carmen? She might be living in a mobile house by now.”

The owl screeched in an almost indignant way. 

“Alright, sorry. Fly safe.”

The owl screeched again and flew out into the night. Marianne went back inside, a spring in her step.

A few streets away, in a tiny room at the Glorious Pigeon inn, Alice stood with her elbows on the wooden windowsill, watching the countless stars shining over the dark forest.

It was a long time before either of them fell asleep; they were both too excited.

* * *

Francis was swinging back and forth on the hammock in his garden, hands beneath his head. Through half-closed eyelids, he could see the fluttering of the flowers on the lemon tree as it gently swayed in the wind, and pink sunset light filtering in between them. The scent of flowers and the sounds of birds and insects filled the air, and the whole of it was so soothing to Francis that he found himself slowly falling asleep.

Through his drowsiness, he felt Alice entering the garden. “Hello, Alice.”

A shadow fell over him. “I hope you look more lively when you dance.”

He opened his eyes to find Alice looking down at him and smiling in amusement. She had on a shirt that seemed smooth and almost spotless, unlike her usual practical clothes, and her hair was loose. 

He said: “you’re as lovely as a lemon tree in full bloom.”

Alice snorted. Francis sat up, making space for her on the hammock. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m still a bit sleepy. Wasn’t my best line.”

Alice sat down and looked around curiously. “You have such a nice garden. It’s so calm in here.”

“Thank you,” Francis said graciously, “I like it too.” 

“Could be nice to have a garden,” Alice said thoughtfully. “But it takes way more effort than I’m willing to put into it.”

“Well, I enjoy spending time here. And I have the advantage of magic, too. I’ve wanted a garden since I was a kid, and when I moved here a few years ago, I could finally create one of my own... ”

“Do you really eat the lemons from this tree?”

“Well of course. They’re great lemons. If you visit in season, I’ll make you some lemonade.”

“That’d be great.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while. 

Francis noticed how the shadows of the swaying leaves danced across Alice’s freckled face, how the setting sun turned her eyelashes into threads of light. Then she turned her head towards him and caught his gaze, and he looked away, feeling like he’d been caught. 

A few moments later he glanced back and found her staring at him, and they both started and then laughed, and the silence became somewhat tenser. 

At last, Francis said, “shall we go, then?”

Alice hesitated, then took her eyes off his face. “Sure.” 

* * *

They had wine and dinner at the Pigeon, and this time stayed for the dancing. There were a fiddler and a singer that night, and at first everyone was very enthusiastic and danced in circles, switching partners every few seconds. Alice looked uncomfortable at the suggestion of joining, so they waited, talking, until the atmosphere cooled down. 

Eventually, the music became gentler and people started dancing in pairs, swaying in their private little worlds, and when Francis offered Alice his hand she took it.

However, after the fifth time Alice stepped on his foot, wincing and apologising, Francis stopped her. “Do you want me to dance the lady’s part?”

Alice breathed out with relief. “Yes.” Then her forehead creased. “Won’t that make you feel weird?”

“I don’t mind,” he said, “with the right person.”

Somewhat hesitant, Alice removed her hands from Francis’ shoulders and placed them on his waist. They started moving again.

This time, they got the hang of it quickly, and Alice seemed much more at ease than before. She was a good lead, and didn’t seem to mind that Francis performed the swirling and spinning with much more elegance than she had. In fact, she was looking at him with glinting eyes and a smile that made him want to melt right there in her arms. 

“You’re unbelievably good at this,” she said lightly. “Is this also some sort of magic?”

Francis shook his head. “Just my natural charms,” he said, which made Alice laugh.

They stopped dancing when the music died out. Francis kept Alice’s hand in his when they left the inn; she didn’t pull away.

* * *

They were back in the witch’s house, having made their way there holding hands. The deep quiet of the night settled over the town, and for a while, the only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the buzzing of cicadas outside.

“I don’t usually go out with guys,” Alice said suddenly. “If — if you were wondering why I dance the man’s part better.”

“I’m very lucky, then.” Francis tried to sound calm, but couldn’t keep a slight tremble out of his voice when he added: “but are really alright with — well, going out with me?”

“Yeah,” Alice said after a pause. “You know, I was worried about it at first. I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to like you as — as a man, too.”

Francis’ heart skipped a beat.

“But it turned out just fine,” Alice finished. “It seems that I like you both ways.”

Francis could breathe again, and suddenly his heart felt close to bursting. “I like you, too,” he said. “I’m really happy that we met.”

They looked at each other. Alice was smiling, and Francis found that he was, too, from ear to ear. Not for the first time, he thought about kissing her. They were sitting close, and their hands brushed against each other. How easy it would be.

But in the time it took for that vague thought to form into an intention, she looked away, clearing her throat. 

“I wanted to tell you something. About my recent trip to Niue.”

“What happened?”

He thought he could  _ feel  _ her mood changing, as if the glow of her magic grew dim. 

“It was bad. The place was burnt almost completely. I asked them where the dragon was, and they showed me where it flew.”

Francis nodded, waiting.

Alice inhaled shakily. “But I just felt like they hated me so much.”

Francis frowned. “Why would they?”

“They thought I was like any other dragon hunter,” she explained. “That I was just looking to profit from their loss. In the end, I went with the two remaining warriors — the others died fighting the dragon. I don’t think they wanted me with them, but they wouldn’t refuse another sword. The dragon was already wounded and we managed to catch it off-guard. We killed it. There was nothing heroic about it, it was almost like killing it in its sleep. We spread the loot between us… They thanked me in the end, but I could tell they weren’t really grateful. They thought I should’ve stayed out of it.”

“But you did help,” Francis said. “Maybe they would’ve died without you.”

“Maybe. It’s even likely,” she admitted. “They weren’t very experienced. But... I don’t know, it made me think. Why am I doing that? I feel so bad when I remember how they looked at me.”

“They don’t know you.”

“I know.” Alice sighed. “The question is — Am I doing the right thing? Maybe I just want to  _ feel  _ like I’m doing what I think is right.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. “Alice,” he managed at last, “you’re a good person.”

“Thank you, but I don’t know if that’s true.” she gave him half a smile. “It’s getting pretty dark, isn’t it. I’m sorry for ruining the moment.”

“No, don’t. You can talk to me.”

“Thanks.”

Francis shook his head, trying to assemble his thoughts. “I get how you feel,” He said. “At least I think I do. I was taught very clear definitions of good and bad, and even to this day they sometimes make me feel like I’m a bad person who’s living their life all wrong.”

“It’s not exactly like that. I feel like my _own_ definition of good and bad meant isn’t true.”

“What do you mean?”

Alice opened her mouth, then closed it, then started again. “Since my sister died, I’ve been trying to become like her. I was young and I got my head filled with dreams of revenge and glory.” She shrugged helplessly. “Lately, I’m realising that’s just not how fighting is. It’s terrible and ugly and there’s nothing glorious about it.” 

Francis thought about it. “Do you want me to give advice,” he asked, “or just to listen?”

“Well, it could be great if you have any insight.”

“Alright — then I think you don’t have to have it all figured out,” he said. “Do what feels right to you now. In the end, you’re doing a good thing. Helping people. If you decide that it’s no longer the life you want, just change it. Take your time to think about it. But, just remember that no matter what, you’re a good person.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do.”

Alice smiled, despite herself. “Thanks. I guess you’re right. I just really don’t know what I want.”

“Me neither.”

Alice looked surprised. “I thought you had it all figured out.”

“The important bits, yeah. I know who I am now, and the things that make me happy. But I don’t think I’ve found my place yet.”

“What would it be like? Your place?”

“I don’t know. A place to call my own? A place where I’m surrounded by friends, and not people who just tolerate my presence?”

“I thought you were loved here.”

“Well I’m certainly  _ useful _ here, but I haven’t made any true friends. People treat me with respect, but the way I live scares them, so they keep their distance.”

Alice frowned. “Hypocritical bastards.”

“People are like that everywhere.”

Alice looked at him with a strange expression. Was it pity? Or something else?

“You mentioned earlier that you were taught good and bad,” she said. “What did you mean?”

Francis gave her a crooked smile. “You sure you want to go there?”

She shrugged. “If you’re fine with it? You’ve already heard  _ my  _ unhappy secrets.”

“Alright then.” Francis shifted in his seat, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand, mentally preparing himself for a topic that was never pleasant. “Well, you already know that witchcraft is forbidden in Stavelle. It’s generally considered sinful and dangerous. But people like me are born with magic. We don’t choose to use it. I was told to suppress it as a child, but it kept coming out of me in unexpected ways that were, well, dangerous. That happens when you don’t learn to control it. My parents hated it. They would blame me when it happened, and that made me feel even worse, which would turn my magic even more unstable. It was a pretty bad cycle.”

Alice didn’t say anything, but her eyes were wide.

“There was also the issue of my— “ Francis coughed, gesturing vaguely at himself. 

“Your gender,” Alice suggested.

He nodded. “Things like that aren’t welcome where I come from either — not that it’s great here, but it’s definitely worse there. That was another thing that I had to suppress, but when I got into my teens I started looking for places where I could be myself. I found a few friends who were dealing with similar things. My parents found out eventually, and we had a big fight, and I ended up losing control over my magic and setting the house on fire. After that, I had to leave.”

He was quiet for a while, then spoke again. “I travelled for a long time, and found other witches on the way, made good friends, learned to use magic for good. Eventually, I came here. What I meant earlier was that I still feel guilty sometimes when I use magic or when I call myself by the names I chose, things like that. Even though I know that it’s fine.”

“ _ Names _ you chose?”

He nodded again. “Marianne isn’t my birth name either.”

She didn’t ask, and he was grateful for that. Alice wasn’t one to press, and he was growing to appreciate that about her.

Instead, she said: “That really sucks. But I think you’re handling it in the best way possible. You’re so amazing. I never would’ve guessed about all of that.”

There it was again, the warm feeling in his chest. “I feel the same about you.”

“I mean it! Let me finish. I hope you find the place where you belong. And I hope we can both be happy.”

“You aren’t happy now?”

“Hm. Right now?” She gave him a meaningful glance. “I guess right now I’m feeling pretty fine.” 

“I’m glad to hear.”

She laughed. “But in general? I don’t know. I could be happier.”

They were silent for a while. 

Francis took her hand again. “We’re going to be fine.”

She squeezed his hand and smiled.

* * *

It was early morning already when Alice left, and Francis managed to get only three or four hours of sleep before customers began coming in. He was tired and sore, but remembering last night’s conversation, he felt like it was worth it.

That day he got a visit from the twins. Francis liked interacting with children; they weren’t scared of magic like their parents.

“Don’t worry,” Francis said, “it’s not going to hurt.”

Al, the boy, was sitting on one of the stools in the store, with scraped and bloody knees. Francis was spreading a glittering ointment over them. “How did this happen?” he asked conversationally.

“He jumped off the swing,” Maddie said, standing next to him with arms crossed. “Because he was trying to  _ show off.” _

“I wasn’t!” the boy protested, turning to glare at her. 

“Stop moving,” Francis said patiently. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s because the girl he likes was passing by. Her name’s— ”

Al covered her mouth with his hand and it came out as a muffled mumble. “I  _ don’t  _ like her, Maddie!” He frowned. “Oh, sorry, Francis.”

“It’s alright,” Francis said, wiping his hands on his apron. “I’m done, anyway.”

“Really? But I didn’t feel anything.”

“I told you it wouldn’t hurt. I wouldn’t lie to you,” Francis said fondly. He handed him a small round box. “Use that once a day for the next… three days, that should be more than enough. Should be gone by then. Is there anything else you need, kids?”

“Mom wanted something against potato beetles,” Maddie said. 

“Hm. Let’s see what I’ve got…”

Just then came a rapid knocking on the door, then it was pushed open, sending the bells into frenzied jingling. It was Alice. 

“Good morning, Alice,” Francis beamed, but his smile faded when he saw that she was wearing her armour and carrying her travel bag.

“I’ve got to go,” Alice said faintly. “There’s dragons around Shell. My home area.”

“Give me a moment,” Francis said to the children, then looked at Alice and gestured for them to go outside. They walked into the garden.

“Stay safe,” Francis said urgently. “I’d like to see you again.”

Alice nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

Francis looked around frantically, then his eyes fell on the lemon tree and he reached up and plucked a single flower. “If you ever need me, hold this and call my name. I’ll come to help.”

“That’s so…” Alice chuckled. “Sappy.” She took the tiny flower and tucked it in her belt. “Thanks. Which name, though?”

Francis smiled. “Either should work.” 

“I’ll go with both just to be safe.” Surprisingly, Alice hugged him. Then she kissed his cheek. “But it won’t come to that. I’ll be fine.”

And with that, she started towards the road, where her new and beautiful horse waited. “Thanks for the dance,” she said lightly over her shoulder.

“I…” Francis put his hand to his cheek, stunned. “You too! Good luck!”

When Francis turned back to the house, he saw the two children staring at him with their noses glued to the windowpane. They jumped and hurried to hide behind the wall. Francis rolled his eyes, laughing.

“Is that your girlfriend?” Maddie asked when he came back in.

“No,” Francis said. “At least… not yet.”

The kids exchanged glances. “Ooooh…”

“Stop that,” Francis said scoldingly, but the smile on his face reduced the effect. “Anyway, potato beetles? I’ll see what I can get you.”

* * *

_ Dear Fran, _

_ I received your letter about your knight. She sounds like a sweetheart, I can’t wait to meet her. Hope things are going well between you two. It’s great to hear that you’re so happy. _

_ Guess what? _

_ The walking house is on its way to you!  _

_ Yes, you read that right! The house is up and done and moving! We’re all very happy with it. It’s arguably the best coven house that’s ever been built.  _

_ We’ve spent the first week in the house on the beach, swimming a lot and getting a good tan (except for Emma who’s now peeling all over). It is  _ **_GREAT_ ** _ to have running water in your house - I highly recommend you invest in a good magical pipe system (maybe Emma can help you, she’s good with that kind of thing). There’s nothing like a good bath or shower, especially when you’re covered in sand and salt.  _

_ After the beach we spent a week travelling through the forest, making our way to Gil’s tower (poor man needs to get visitors once in a while). We’re currently parking next to Gil’s place. He’s being a good host and letting us read through his library of spells.  _

_ Want to hear something strange? Guess who Gilbert has been making eyes to? None other than our Chiara. And the craziest thing is that she’s been making eyes back. They’ve been spending a lot of time together over the past few days. I would’ve never imagined anything like it, they’re both so weird. But maybe they’re just weird enough for each other.  _

_ Anyway, our next stop is your place — hope you don’t mind. We’ll stop in the woods outside of your village so that we don’t bother your neighbours.  _

_ See you soon, _

_ Carmen _

* * *

_ Mari, _

_ Carmen told me about your date. Sounds awesome! I’m happy for you! _

_ Carm and her friends have been staying here for a while now, and they are a huge help with my research. I thought I’d update you on some of the stuff we discovered. _

_ I’ve dissected the dragon that you so kindly gifted to me, and it seems like its anatomy is unlike that of any recorded species from the continent. First of all, it seems like several of its systems rely solely on magic to function — I don’t think it would be able to breathe, what with all the fire and smoke it constantly creates, without magic. And perhaps even more interesting, I’ve never seen a creature so  _ **_efficient_ ** _. The dragon doesn’t have any vestigial body parts (like our tailbone). Every part of the dragon has a purpose. I have a theory about that, but I don’t dare say it out loud (or write it down) before I’m completely sure. _

_ Anyhow, I hope to see you again soon.  _

_ Yours, _

_ G. _

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Francis woke up to the sound of a storm. The branches of the lemon tree were swaying and creaking restlessly. He got up and opened the window; the summer air was warm and still, and when he looked up he could see countless stars — there wasn’t a hint of a cloud or the faintest breeze. 

Yet the leaves of the tree were fluttering and swishing as if in a strong wind.

_ Alice. _

Francis lit a pair of candles with a wild flare of his hands and ran to the closet, hurriedly getting dressed. He stuffed a bag with bread, hard cheese, apples, his first-aid kit and a couple of useful spells, tied the straps and threw the bag over his shoulder. He rummaged through the drawers before finally finding a glinting silver compass, tossing it on the table. 

The needle was spinning in all directions.

Francis fixed the image of Alice in his mind, staring intently at the compass. The needle slowed down, hesitating, then went back to its random spinning. 

_ Come on!  _

Francis thought of Alice’s smile; her laughter; her hand on the crook of his back as they danced; firelight on her tired face as they spoke in his store in hushed tones. 

The needle slowed to a halt, pointing steadily to the north and slightly westward. Francis breathed out in relief and snatched the compass, then scrambled around the storage room for his flying oak branch. It was quite dusty, but it should still work — hopefully.

Francis stepped out of the store’s front door, locking the door and flipping the sign so that it showed:  _ I went out, I’ll be back soon.  _ He locked the garden’s gate as well, just to be safe, then got onto the branch.

For a moment, he felt uncertain; would it still obey him, after all this time? 

Francis gritted his teeth and kicked the ground. He took off unsteadily, rocking side to side, but after a few moments instinct took over and he aimed the branch forward and up, finding balance. The village grew gradually smaller beneath his feet, and the air grew cold and crisp. With one hand steadying the branch and the other holding up the compass, Francis flew to his knight’s rescue.

* * *

Francis flew until the sky to the east began glowing with morning light. At the same time, the wind began carrying the smell of the sea. As sunlight spread over the land, scattered villages began appearing below, forming a trail that lead up the river towards the city of Shell, which lay at the estuary.

The compass in Francis’ hand began flickering in blue, signalling that he was close. 

He flew past the city. At that point he remembered that he’d forgotten to equip an invisibility spell, but it was too late for that, so he just hoped nobody would look up so early in the morning — and that if they did, that they would mistake him for a large bird.

A little north to Shell was the point where the mountain range of Zegren’s Spine met the sea in a wall of white cliffs. This same mountain range stretched east and south from the shore in a broad curve that reached as far as the centre of the kingdom, where Ferrn was located. Mount Marroad was one of its southern peaks. Here, in its North-Western section, was the mountain named Esjour. 

Francis’ compass lead him to Mount Esjour. The green mountainside was darkened with scorched patches of forest. This was dragon country. 

The mild slope of the mountain jarringly turned into a line of grey, rocky cliffs. The air smelled like smoke, and there was the same familiar uneasy feeling in Francis’ gut that he remembered from mount Marroad. 

He took up again, viewing the cliffs from a wider perspective. Then he spotted it — a cave dug into the side of the cliff. A slope of fallen rocks and pebbles flowed from it to the path some twenty meters below. At the bottom of the slope was the shimmering shape of a dragon. Dead? No — its body was rising and falling slowly, and a thin stream of smoke blew out of its nostrils with the rhythm of its breath. 

Flying as close as he dared, Francis saw that the dragon’s wings were holed with arrows and that the ground around it was dark with blood. By the awkward way it lay on its side, he assumed it was wounded.

Where was Alice?

Francis breathed in deeply, trying not to panic.  _ Please don’t be dead,  _ he thought. 

The compass let out a quiet whistle. The needle pointed at the cliffside. Directly at the cave, in fact. 

_ What…? _

Francis flew past the dragon, landing softly at the entrance to the cave. The sun shone brightly behind him and the cave was dark, and he squinted as the wind blew his hair into his face. The cave smelled like dust and smoke.

“Who’s there?” a familiar voice demanded. There was a sound like stones tumbling.

Francis jumped. “Alice!” He dropped the branch and bolted forward, scrambling over pebbles, barely keeping his footing. He stopped, cursed, and summoned a tiny candle-flame on top of his finger.

“Francis!”

Alice was lying on a pile of rubble, pale-faced and dirty. Even at first glance, he could see that her leg was broken.

“Oh Gods, are you alright?”

At the same time, Alice asked: “How did you get here?”

They stared at each other, wide-eyed. “You first,” Francis said. “What happened?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry. Broke my leg when the stones started tumbling and couldn’t run far, so I had to hide here.” She grinned. “Francis, you’re here. How?!”

He knelt beside her. “I just really wanted to find you, so it worked. I’m so glad you’re not dead. I’d give you a hug, but I don’t know what other injuries you might have there.” He realised that he was babbling, closed his mouth and reached out to help Alice to her feet. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Alice’s smile faded. “But — the dragon.”

Francis froze. “What about it.”

“It’s still alive. It’s dangerous.” She frowned, her eyes determined. “There are people living below this mountain.”

“Alice,” Francis said, aghast. “You can’t be serious. You’re in no condition to fight.”

“But you’re here now,” she insisted. “You’re a healer. Can’t you fix my leg?”

“I’m a healer,” Francis agreed, increasingly concerned, “But I can’t perform miracles. I can make your leg heal faster and better, but I can’t just ‘fix it _ ’  _ on the spot.”

“And there’s nothing you can do?”

Francis shook his head. “I can’t fight, and even if I could, I’d rather get you to a safe place first.”

Alice seemed like she wanted to argue, but held back. Her mouth was a tight line. She knew that he was right. “Alright. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” Francis said, trying to sound gentle. “I know how badly you want to help these people.” 

He offered Alice a hand, and she took it, and slowly he pulled her up. She leaned against his side and he put an arm around her shoulders to steady her. They walked to the cavern door.

_ What now,  _ Francis thought. Would the oak branch hold the weight of both of them?  _ Guess we’ll find out. _

Just as he reached for the branch, a low roar echoed between the cliffs. 

Alice froze. “Shit.”

“Shit,” Francis agreed. He turned towards Alice, trying to think fast. “Can it catch us if we fly out now?”

Alice bit her lip. “It shouldn’t be able to fly. But it can still hit us with fire. They have good aim. Can you make us invisible?”

“Not in a few minutes,” Francis said, “which seems to be all we have.”

Indeed, as far as he could see, the dragon was now stretching its body and looking around with glowing ember eyes. Its scales reflected the sun blindingly.

Alice’s hand went to her bow. “I can still shoot,” she said. “But it won’t kill it. Isn’t there any magic you could do— “

“I’m a healer,” Francis repeated, the pitch of his voice rising with anxiety. “I don’t know how to kill things.”

“You set a house on fire once—”

“I’m  _ not  _ doing anything like that again!”

Alice fell silent.

“I’m sorry,” Francis said. “I didn’t mean to shout—”

“It’s fine.” A crease formed between Alice’s eyebrows. “Maybe we don’t have to kill it? Can you maybe — turn it into something else?”

The dragon was walking around now, letting out deafening roars and flipping over rocks with its legs. 

“Transforming something that big — I don’t have enough power for that,” Francis held his head with his hands. “Maybe if my friends were here and we all worked together, or if I had some sort of source —” his eyes lit up “Alice! Your dagger.”

“What?”

“Your unbreakable dagger,” Francis repeated urgently. “The one you didn’t want to trade with me? Do you have it here?” He shook his head. “Of course it’s here, I can feel it. How haven’t I thought about that?”

Alice wordlessly reached for her belt and pulled the dagger out of its sheath, placing it in Francis’ expecting hand. Her expression was confused. “How will this help?”

“Just trust me,” Francis said. “You said you can shoot?”

Alice nodded. “Don’t know if I can aim too well…”

“You have to.”

He helped her to the entrance of the cave, sitting her down behind a broken boulder that hid them from the outside. “Be ready to fire when I tell you.”

“Are you sure about this?” Alice asked dubiously. She looked much more at ease than he felt.

“Not at all.”

Alice shrugged, then smiled. “I guess I don’t have a better option.”

_ You’re amazing,  _ he thought.  _ How can you be so calm? _

The dragon’s rumbling footfalls began growing louder. It was coming their way. Alice nocked an arrow and waited.

Francis closed his eyes and searched for magic. Immediately, he recognized the small, warm flame right next to him — Alice. Then the raging fire outside that was the dragon. And in his hand, the dagger, bright like a sun and almost blinding, something old and strange.

Francis put his hand on Alice’s back, trying to draw carefully from the dagger’s magic — but as soon as he pulled on its source, it overflowed. It was as if he’d broken a dam that was holding back an ocean. At first, it was euphoric, like soaring through the sky faster than any bird, but quickly it grew nauseating, and his head spun, vision blurring. Gritting his teeth, he let Alice have some of the magic.

He heard her gasp and felt a tremble going through her.

“Try not to pass out,” Francis whispered.

“I’ll do my best,” Alice replied.

Then the dragon loomed in front of them, flapping a broken wing, bursts of fire coming through its teeth.

“Now,” Francis said. He let go, aiming the magic through Alice’s body to the arrow that took flight at that same moment, soaring through the air, burning white like a falling star. 

The dragon disappeared in an explosion of light.

And the cliffs were silent.

“What happened?” Alice asked weakly. She’d fallen back into Francis’ arms, her eyelids fluttering shut. Unlike Francis, she’d never held magic before, not to mention old magic. He worried that it might have been too much.

“Let’s see,” he said. Supporting Alice, he led the way out of the cave. 

At first, he couldn’t even see the dragon. Then, it occurred to him to look down. Where the dragon once stood, there was now a fat green lizard about the size of a melon, lying on its side and snoring softly. 

Alice started laughing, a pure sound of surprise and joy. Francis crouched and touched the lizard with a finger. It was warm, as if it had a fire inside. 

* * *

“I can’t believe you broke my dagger,” Alice yelled over the sound of the wind.

They were flying south, Francis steering, Alice sitting behind him and holding on tightly, her face squeezed against his back. Francis tried not to think of what would happen if her grip loosened moment. He felt unbelievably light. 

“I saved your life,” he called back.

The lizard that used to be a dragon was inside of Francis' travel bag. It was still sleeping. When they’d found it, Francis wasn’t sure what to do with it — but Alice said that every good witch had to have a familiar, and what better familiar than something that used to be a fire-breathing dragon.

“It was an  _ unbreakable  _ dagger,” Alice shouted. “How did you even manage? I didn’t know you were  _ that  _ talented.”

“It just lost what made it unbreakable in the first place.”

“I know,” Alice called. “I’m just joking. Thanks for saving me.” He could tell from her voice that she was smiling. “You’re the real knight out of the two of us.”

“No way. You’ll always be my knight.”

At that moment, the enchanted oak branch suddenly dropped by a few meters. Alice yelped. “What was that?”

The branch began shaking wildly, shooting forward in sudden jerks with breaks and pauses. “I think it’s running out of magic,” Francis explained worriedly. “We might have to do an emergency landing.”

“Why isn’t your magic broom charged!?”

“I haven’t flown in ages!” Francis replied defensively. “And it’s not a  _ broom _ !”

They’ve come quite far from Mount Esjour and were now flying over the Yellow Plains, tall grass and wildflowers swaying in the wind beneath them. They weren’t far from home now — perhaps an hour away by flight. By foot, though, it could take a day, and Alice couldn’t walk… 

With effort, Francis gripping the branch tightly to prevent it from steering sideways, they made it past another hill. There weren’t any villages in sight. But there was something else, Francis noticed all of a sudden — something that  _ really  _ didn’t belong in the marshy grassland.

“Is that a house?” Alice shouted. “Is that a  _ moving  _ house?”

It was, indeed, a moving house. The walls were painted in an eye-biting combination of red, green and pink, with yellow roof-tiles on top of all that. The thing stood on four giant metal wheels that spun slowly but steadily, crushing grass and bushes in their way. 

“Gods,” Francis breathed out. “That’s my friend’s house.” He raised an arm and began waving and yelling. “Carmen!  _ CARMEN!  _ Chiara! Emma! Stop the house!”

The house ambled on, rolling sideways up a hill like a strange crab. 

Francis aimed the branch at the house and shot towards it, losing altitude in rapid drops. “Stop the goddamn house!!” He roared.

There was still no response. Francis and Alice barrelled past the house, descending until their feet touched the ground. A moment later they were rolling in the grass, carried forward by the momentum of their landing. Alice cried out as her broken leg was bent. Francis got a hit to the head from the oak branch, cursing loudly.

They didn’t seem to be noticed; the house continued straight towards them.

“We’re gonna get run over!” Alice gasped.

Francis jumped to his feet, waving both arms and screaming like a madman. Finally, a window opened and the head of a young woman peered out. “What the Hell — Oh,  _ You! _ ” 

“Chiara?” Francis shouted. “Can you not run us over?”

The woman turned back inside and yelled: “Carmen, Francis is here! Stop the house!”

A muffled reply sounded from within. It sounded like “ _ what? _ ”

“ _ STOP THE FUCKING HOUSE!”  _ bellowed the woman at the window, Chiara. She clenched her fist and slammed it into the wall, and Francis felt a wave of magic flow out of her, sinking into the walls. The house shuddered and rattled to a halt, wheels screeching.

Francis and Alice breathed out with relief. 

A few moments later the door swung open and three women stepped out. Carmen ran straight to Francis and threw herself over him. “We were just heading for your place! Did you get my message? Oh, you must be Alice. What  _ happened  _ to you?” 

Another witch, short and red-cheeked — Emma — followed behind her and gave Francis a bright smile. “It’s good to see you again. Nice to meet you, Alice.”

Carmen and Emma helped Alice get up and supported her from both sides into the house. Francis followed, trailed by Chiara, who had her arms crossed over her chest and was eyeing the whole procession with a hint of reproach. “Glad you’re not dead,” was all she said.

The interior of the house was wide and well-lit, but messier than a dragon’s lair. Clothes were thrown over the sofas and chairs; books were lying open on the table; dishes were piled high in the sink. The air was heavy with a mix of scents: flowers blooming on the windowsills, bubbling potions left open, soup brewing on the kitchen stove.

A large sapphire-blue cat was sitting on one of the cushioned chairs. It meowed loudly when they entered. Chiara picked it up, rubbing it behind its ears, and Carmen and Emma sat Alice down in its place. She was looking around with an awed expression. 

“Should we take care of that leg?” Carmen asked Francis. “I’ll help you, like in the old days.”

“Thanks, that’ll be great,” Francis smiled. “There’s also some stuff that I’ll need…” he began counting off ingredients on his fingers. 

Carmen nodded and set off searching, rummaging through cluttered drawers and shelves. “Sorry about the mess,” she said over her shoulder. “We just moved in, so we haven’t had the time to organize stuff yet.”

Chiara rolled her eyes. “That’s a lie. It’s got nothing to do with moving house, we’re just lazy.”

“Speak for yourself,” Emma objected. “My room is tidy.”

Carmen came back and dropped several herb bundles on the table, some of them glowing or strangely coloured. Francis thanked her and started picking through them and tossing leaves into a cup. 

“Wanna tell me what happened?” Carmen asked Alice cheerfully. 

“I went up mount Esjour to kill a dragon and ended up falling from a cliff,” Alice said. “Probably would’ve got eaten if not for this witch here,” she tilted her head in Francis’ direction. 

“What’d he do?”

“He turned the dragon into… something. It’s in that bag there.”

Emma took the sleeping lizard out of its sack. “Ah, wow,” she exclaimed, “this thing is crazy.” She held it out for Chiara to see. The blue cat sniffed at it suspiciously.

“That thing used to be a dragon?” Chiara asked. “We should bring it to Gilbert, I bet he’d want to take a look at it.”

“Just don’t let him dissect it,” Alice warned. “It has to be Francis’ familiar.”

“I didn’t do it myself,” Francis objected. “Alice took a really good shot.”

“It wouldn't have done any good without your spell.”

“I couldn’t have aimed it without you. And I wouldn’t have been able to cast it without your unbreakable dagger.”

They smiled at each other.

“Ugh,” Chiara said. “Find a room.”

“Unbreakable dagger?” Emma asked. “Can I see it?”

“It’s broken,” Francis said apologetically.

“That’s alright.”

Alice passed her the shards of the blade, wrapped up in fabric. Emma examined them with interest. “That explains it,” she hummed. “I was wondering how come you’re still standing after such a transformation. Do you mind lending me this for a while?” She asked Alice. “The runes could be useful.”

“Knock yourself out.”

Francis handed Alice the cup with the freshly mixed potion. “Drink this,” he told her, “for the pain.”

Alice took it with surprise. “It doesn’t hurt that much.”

“It’s going to, in a moment. We have to set the bone before we can start spelling it to heal.”

Carmen rubbed her palms together with excitement. “Ah, I’ve missed this kind of action since you moved out, Francis.”

“You lived here?” Alice asked. “I mean — in their old house?”

“For a few months.” He changed the subject. “Are you ready?”

Her jaw set, she nodded.

“Let’s get to it, then.”   


* * *

The two visitors were given guestrooms on the top floor. At first, while Alice was in the bathroom, Carmen had slyly suggested that Francis and Alice share a room, but Francis insisted against it, and she was forced to admit that yes, they did have two spare rooms. 

Francis’ room was painted light green and had a soft bed, a set of drawers and a window facing west, which now offered a magnificent view of the sun setting over the grasslands. He still hasn’t got used to the movement of the house — it was much smoother than that of a ship or a carriage, and it was hard for his brain to put together the rapidly-flying-by sights with the lack of bumping or swaying.

There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” he said.

It was Alice, with new, clean clothes, a crutch and a slight limp. 

“How’s your leg?”

“Amazing,” she smiled. “I can barely feel anything. Now I get what you meant earlier when you mentioned witches working together.”

“You should still be careful with it,” he warned. “It could easily go back to—”

Alice waved it away. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna be chasing dragons anytime soon.” 

Francis raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, I’m thinking about a break.” Alice glanced at the bed, where the dragon-lizard lay on its side, sleeping. “It still hasn’t woken up?”

Francis shook his head. “I’m starting to wonder if it’ll sleep forever.”

Alice poked the creature’s belly. It shifted to its back, leg twitching, but didn’t open its eyes. “I hope it wakes up. We can’t have a familiar that sleeps all day.”

“We?”

Alice joined him at the window, leaning her elbows at the windowsill, breathing in the fresh air. She smelled like lavender soap. “About that. Carmen mentioned earlier that you used to live with them?”

“Yeah. It was right after I moved to Tivaria.”

“Why did you leave?” Alice asked. 

He hesitated.

“They all seem so nice,” Alice said. “And it must be great to have so much magic to work with”

“It’s a women’s house,” Francis said after a pause. “At some point, I started feeling out of place. Not that they tried to make me feel that way — they were always very accepting — “

Alice nodded. “I understand why that would make you uncomfortable.” She reached out of the window and plucked a leaf off a tree as they passed it by. “I’ve wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“Would it be fine if  _ I _ were — er — could I stay with you for a while? As I said, I feel like I need to take a break. I want to stop and think before I decide what to do next. And yeah, I guess I’d like to spend some time with you…”

She stopped talking. Francis was wordlessly nodding.

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“I — uh.” Francis laughed, shaking his head. “I find it hard to talk properly when you say stuff like that and catch me by surprise, but yes, I’d love that.”

Alice laughed too, her eyes lighting up. “That’s good.”

He thought about kissing her.

The next moment, they  _ were  _ kissing. Francis wasn’t sure which one of them had started it, but it didn’t matter as Alice’s hands went in his hair and Francis’ arms circled her waist, and he could feel her smiling against his lips.

The door swung open. Reluctantly, they pulled away. Carmen was standing in the doorway, a wild look in her eyes. 

“Can this wait?” Francis asked weakly, at the same moment in which Alice asked: “What’s wrong?”

Francis gave Carmen a pleading look. She ignored him. “I just got a letter from Gilbert,” she said, waving it in the air. “And I think you should both see it.”

She handed it to Francis first. Sighing, he unrolled the stained parchment, smoothing it out. There were only a few lines on it, written in Gilbert’s messy handwriting, the ink smudged at a few places.

_ Carmen, _

_ have you found Fran yet? When you do, please bring them to my place. I need all of you here. I found out something that can change our lives. _

_ The dragons aren’t native to this continent. I don’t think they’re even native to this world. _

_ I think they were created by the old humans. _

_ I don’t want to say too much over a letter. Please come as soon as you can. Tell Fran to pack for a long journey. If they’re up for it, we’ll be travelling far. _

_ G. _

Not knowing what to say, Francis handed the letter to Alice.

As she read, her eyes went wide. She reached the last line, and slowly her hand which held the letter dropped to her side. “What is this?”

“It could be our door to understanding the nature of dragons,” Carmen said excitedly. “Maybe the history of humanity and magic.”

Francis glanced at Alice with worry. “I’d like to go, but what about you?”

“I want to go too,” she replied immediately. “I want to know more about them. Maybe this can help us understand why they’ve been attacking more often lately. Maybe this can help us get rid of them.”

“That’s settled, then,” Carmen decided before Francis could say anything more. “We’ll turn back to Gil’s tower.”

Francis raised a hand and stopped her. “Can we stop by my place first? We’re almost there by now, and I want to pick up some things.”

Carmen nodded. “Alright then. I won’t disturb you two anymore.” She smiled, suddenly a little sheepish, and left, closing the door behind her.

Silence stretched for a few moments after she left. 

“How far do you think he meant by  _ travel far? _ ” Alice asked. Absently, she leaned back into Francis, taking his hand.

“I think Gil wants to go to Krosei,” Francis replied. “He’s talked about visiting the old cities in the past. The Palace of Storms, Tuier’s Gardens...”

“Those places are real?”

“Hopefully.”

Alice looked out on the dark sky, where the first stars were starting to appear. Her eyes were shining. “I want to see them.”

“It’s going to be dangerous,” Francis noted carefully. “Those are probably the most magical places in the world. That’ll mean dragons.”

“Then you could use a dragon hunter.”

“Are you sure you want to come? I thought you wanted a break.”

“I bet we’ll spend some time sitting around at the place of this Gilbert fellow before everyone’s ready to travel. And anyway, it’ll take a long time to get to damn Krosei.” She smiled, and the wondrous quality returned to her tone. “I’ve never travelled by sea.”

“Well, if you’re absolutely sure —”

“I am —”

“Then I’m really glad to have you with me.”

Alice looked at him. “I’m a little surprised that  _ you  _ want to go. What about your garden, and the people in Ferrn?”

“Remember when I said I don’t feel like I belong there? Maybe it’s time for a change. My life has been stagnant for a while. Besides,” he looked down at their held hands, “I’d like to spend some time with you.”

Alice chuckled. She turned in his arms so they faced each other, spreading a hand on his chest. “Where were we when we got interrupted?” 

Francis heard all of his clever responses flying out of the window, tumbling behind the rapidly moving house. “Uh,” he said.

“Hm?” She was close enough to see every single freckle on her nose.

“Maybe you can remind me.”

Alice kissed him again, and everything else was forgotten.


	4. Epilogue

“Are you ready to leave?”

Marianne looked back at the house that has been her home for six years. It had been harder to pack than she’d expected. She didn’t know when she’d be coming back, if at all, and felt the need to pack every single book and potion. Somehow, she managed to make do with five of her most precious books: three spellbooks, one book on Tivaria’s flowers, and a storybook in Stavellan. She’d also taken clothes (most of them fit for travel, with a few exceptions — because she couldn’t give up dressing nicely), a few spells and potions, her lyre and the vision compass.

Alice was standing in the shade of the lemon tree, looking more beautiful than all the flowers in Tivaria together. Marianne had said her goodbyes to the townspeople, but it was more painful to leave the garden behind, the product of six years’ hard work and deep care.

“I guess so,” Marianne said, unsure.

“You can always come back,” Alice said.

“I know.” Really, she didn’t think she would — this felt like the end of an era. And she  _ was  _ happy about it, she reminded herself. 

Alice squeezed her arm reassuringly. “Think about how wonderful it’ll be.”

Marianne took a deep breath. She placed her hand on the trunk of the lemon tree, taking a last look around the garden, at the lilies and buttercups and tulips. “Let’s go.”

They left the garden together and Marianne closed the gate out of habit. She forced herself not to look back as they left the town, walking towards where the moving house stood, waiting for them, with white smoke slowly curling out of its chimney. The air was chilly and smelled like rain and wet leaves and ripening apples — summer was coming to an end. 

“Are you alright?” Alice asked.

“Yeah.” Marianne thought about floating castles, old magic and dragons, about her friends, and about long months on the road with Alice. 

She smiled. “I can’t wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first multichapter fic that I ever finished (though you can argue that it's not actually finished because a second part, where they actually go on their quest, has to follow). I hope I'll get to writing that at some point in the future. I wrote this fic months ago, and writing for Hetalia is getting much less exciting and satisfying for me lately. I think I'm slowly drifting away from the fandom. Might pop back in here and there when I feel like it, but it might be a while before you hear from me again :/ for now I just wanna say thanks for reading my stories <3 Really means a lot to me!!! <3 <3 <3


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